I watched "Love Actually" on Sunday, and it was incredible. A new favorite. Not because of the love (even though it was great), but because of the Britishness.There is something about the United Kingdom that creates such a longing that I teeter on the verge of melancholy and elation.
I was lucky enough to be in the UK last summer. I spent the majority of my time in Northern Ireland, but also got over to England and Scotland: a couple of weeks in London interspersed with trips around the two countries.
Sensational. I can't think of any other word to describe it. I can't believe it.
Maybe I'm just a naive, starstruck Yank who is taken with the glamor of the American concept of the UK. But maybe there really is something about that land that makes it my favorite.
Being in England was something of a spiritual experience. No one taught me to be attached to that country, and no one randomly makes me think of the time I spent there and how much I loved it. When I was there, it was right.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my family came from Puttenham, a small town northwest of London. Maybe there is some, primitive ancestral tie to that land.
If all goes well, maybe I can spend sometime living there after I graduate. Maybe. It would be important to figure out exactly how serious I am about it and how much time I'd want to devote to trying to make it work.
In the meantime, I'll try not to be the jerk that annoyingly pretends that he actually IS European and writes "color" as "colour" or "realize" as "realise."
Some things (in no particular order) that kill me about Britain:
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